


Esmé

by Rennen



Series: OCs [1]
Category: My own lmao
Genre: Poetry, shitty vague poems, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22787566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rennen/pseuds/Rennen
Summary: Compilation of all currently existing Esmé centered vague oc shit I've writen
Series: OCs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638256
Kudos: 1





	1. Bullet

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh lmao

What kind of cake do you want?  
I’ve practiced plenty, I can make just about anything.  
Believe it or not,  
but I used to be a terrible cook.  
That’s why I had to practice so much.

All signs point to Propo,  
you’ve heard of it before.  
The city that is never quiet,  
there’s always something do,  
or something going on.  
That’s what this cafe is for.

I’ve got a scar on my shoulder.  
You want to know where it’s from?  
You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you.  
After all,  
those kinds of things only happen in books.  
Why did I choose Propo?

Because all signs pointed to it.


	2. Cakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally just cake

I used to play card games with her.  
The facility was so white and plain,  
and she was just a kid,  
so she needed something to do.  
She always seemed to carry a deck of cards on her.  
She enjoyed flowers.

We wanted to same thing for her,  
but his want was twisted into something demented.  
Years of protectiveness turned into possession.  
I was shot in the shoulder, falling backwards.  
I became static.

I make people cakes,  
they enjoy my round face and features,  
saying that I am cute.  
I am no judge of cuteness,  
but if they are content then I am happy.


	3. Being Born

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait a second whats going on here bois

The floor was puffy white clouds, and I awoke one day alone.  
It was bare, nothing but white expanding for miles.  
It felt as if time was still, and I looked down at my hands.  
Those were my first moments of life.

My time alone was short.  
I remember thinking to myself,  
“Someone else might be nice.”  
And there she was, laying among the cotton.  
She looked different back then, almost like a different person.  
But despite that, at her core,  
she was always the Mián I knew.

Next was a robot.  
He was tall yet young looking.  
He was heavy and yet could stand on the cotton landscape.  
His name was Ricochet, and I am his caretaker.

The white landscape had started to change at some point.  
I didn’t notice at first, due to how gradual it was.  
But before our very eyes, was a city.  
Flashing lights, buildings, music.  
“Welcome to Propo” the sign greeted us.

Nishki was next.  
We found her laying among the flowers in a park.  
She was very cute, and very kind.  
She and Ricochet are good friends.

McGunther went through a lot of changes during our time together.  
At first, he was maniacal, the bad guy.  
But with time things change, and improve.  
His appearance, and demeanor, changed.  
He was no longer a maniac,  
but a very protective father with questionable morals.

I am Esmé.  
I was the first,  
my birthday is January 22nd.  
More and more friends have appeared,  
and they get taken care of just like us.  
New places to explore have popped from the ground.  
This place is not so empty and white anymore.


	4. The Child CEO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aspirations and Charm

Everyone liked me in school,  
I was "popular."  
This allowed me to have a relatively good experience,  
but I also noticed those who were not so lucky.  
Often I would attempt to talk to them,  
but they would run away.

My parents were well-off,  
both partners in the banking industry.  
I had a lavish lifestyle,  
I may have become spoiled if I were anyone else.  
My parents weren't around often,  
they generally aren't when they're rich.  
One night, they never came back home.

Their bodies were found together on the highest floor of the bank.  
Their feud with an old CEO of the hotel chain across the street went too far.  
My parents had written a will before then,  
as if they already knew this might happen.  
They gave everything to me,  
money, business, connections.  
At this point, I assumed my only path left would be to take their place.  
I was still a teen back then, but I took up the role forced upon me.

I went to many meetings and say many men in suits.  
They all seemed to be scoffing at me,  
they would try to pull tricks over my head for extra money.  
Quickly I learned that I needed to learn how to speak their language.  
The language of business,  
it includes confidence, personability, intelligence, and wit.  
Overtime, I became quite the charmer.

At one point, I met a man.  
Just one, not a business or a group.  
He wanted a loan for his projects in robotics.  
He was older than me  
and he was incredibly dedicated.  
He had said he was in France for abroad studying,  
his French was decent.  
I gave him the loan and he got to work.  
He had told me his name was Alan,  
Alan McGunther.

Alan had created some incredible things in a short time,  
I was a little jealous of his ability.  
Things had been going smoothly in the business,  
I was talked about in papers and the local news as the "Child CEO."  
But during a summer night the news gained something new to report on:  
"Local Bank Burned Down in Arson Attempt,"  
I had arrived to the charred remains.  
The old man had done it,  
right before he retired.  
I never knew such a pointless grudge was possible.

Now I was at a loss.  
What am I supposed to do now?  
Do I rebuild? I have the money to do so.  
But  
I didn't want to.  
I had been forced into this from the start.  
I decided to take care of all the current loans, then leave.  
I was always seen as adaptable,  
simple,  
and efficient.  
I was sick of it. I was only a teen, not a businessman.  
I took the rest of my will money and disappeared into the night.

I decided to go visit America.  
On my way there I saw a familiar face,  
Alan was on the same route as me.  
He had finished his education and paid off his loan,  
so he was returning to wherever he lived.  
When I saw him I had an idea,  
what if I made something?  
With my own hands,  
something that would last forever.

I arrived at Alan's "secret facility."  
This is where he worked day and night on his robots.  
I joined him as an apprentice, and got to work.  
After a year or two, his daughter appeared.  
She was technically his step daughter,  
but he didn't care.  
Her name was Nishki, she was very cute.  
I ended up becoming a sort of nanny to her while she began living at the facility.  
Alan did care, but he was also very busy,  
it reminded me of my parents.  
I wondered if he was a rich kid too,  
he definitely has an expensive hobby.

A robot started blasting everywhere.  
There were holes in the walls and the ceiling,  
Alan tried to shut the robot down without getting his arm shot off.  
Meanwhile I ran Nishki away from the scene.  
The issue is,  
a bullet found itself in my left shoulder.  
The pain was incredible.  
I probably yelled, but I kept rushing Nishki away.  
When we were sufficiently far from the scene I fell down to my knees with a hand to my bleeding shoulder.  
I was in awe in a way.  
Alan had turned the robot off and found us,  
he called the hospital for me.  
He drove us to Propo, a nearby city,  
he didn't want his facility exposed afterall.

The doctors took the bullet from my shoulder then stitched the wound.  
I have a scar from it.  
But something good had come from the trip,  
a new aspiration.  
My apprenticeship with Alan had conveniently been coming to its end,  
so I told him about my next plan.  
I wanted a little cafe.  
A nice homey one,  
with a couple regulars.  
I already had the people skills,  
I had the money.  
Alan thought it was kind of odd,  
but he told me good luck.

I bought an old crumbling building,  
cleaned it up and refortified it.  
Then I decorated it and opened for business.  
It was a small place,  
so no one showed up at first.  
But eventually I got a few stragglers looking for a quiet place in a loud city.  
After that, my customers grew,  
and I had seemed to become "popular" once again.  
They liked my cakes,  
I had worked hard on perfecting them.  
We had the usual coffee as well,  
although I ironically don't like coffee.  
Everything was fine and normal,  
until I found a scratched up robot behind my dumpster.


End file.
